Not This Time
by don't.diss.the.puff
Summary: Welcome to the 43rd Hunger Games! The districts are in chaos, the Capitol is losing control, and there are hints of rebellion in the air. The Capitol's solution? An unforgettable Games. Previously Expect the Unexpected.
1. Reapings

**A/N- Well, this WAS Expect The Unexpected, but got spazzy and deleted it for being "interactive," so if anyone asks, this is NOT an SYOT. Okay? **

**Disclaimer- I own this disclaimer. That is all. **

Not This Time- Chapter 1- Reapings

_Tucker Hampton- District 9 _

I woke up this morning, same as always. I was about to go to the factory and resume my work, but I realized that today was reaping day. Terrific.

I don't like working in the factories, but it's the only way to support my sisters- Rosette, Mondell and Angel. I was forced to take over as the head of the family after my mom, Janette, passed away three years ago and my father Donothan turned to alcohol. I'm sixteen now, and this is my life. I don't mind it.

At least, it's better than school. That's where people ignore me and think I'm weak. That's where people insult my family and end up getting punched in the face. That's where I'm always alone.

It's not as bad as it could be, though... I have three amazing sisters. And a home. And a means of getting food. By all means, I'm one of the lucky ones.

But this year I'm terrified for my sister Rosette. She's twelve now, so she has a chance of getting reaped. I would do anything in the world to protect any one of my family members.

I have a chance of getting reaped. Well, I guess anyone does. Sure, I took out some tesserae, but so did almost everyone in the factory.

I decided to let my family sleep- my sisters could use their rest, and my father is much more pleasant asleep.

To ease my nerves, I decide to take a walk around my district. It's not pretty, but it's my home. I spend a long time walking.

Too long of a time, perhaps... I look at the sun and realize that I only have about 15 minutes to get presentable for the reaping.

I sprint home, running past my sisters, dressed up and looking adorable, and my father, looking the same. I throw open the door to my bedroom and quickly throw on my white button-down shirt, dark-wash jeans and sneakers. Simple, but nice.

We all walk down to the reaping together- or at least I walk down with my sisters. My father walks apart from us, quickly finding some of his drinking buddies to place bets with.

The guides usher me to the front of the roped off area, and Rosette to the back. Mondell and Angel stand right next to her, just outside the ropes. You can clearly see the fear on their pale white faces.

I want to tell them that everything will be fine, but I can't. The reaping has started.

I nervously brush my dark brown hair out of my light green eyes and wait to find out who is sentenced to death this time.

The mayor stands up, and begins to tell the old story of how Panem was founded. I zone out, instead choosing to examine our guide this year. She has a very tattooed face, tons of bright pink clothes, and a sickeningly sweet smile. She terrifies me.

I'm brought back to reality when she reaches into the bowl for female tributes. I wait with a pounding heart for the name to be called. I wish with every fiber of my being that it won't be Rosette's name called. And it isn't. It's a girl I knew in school, named Jeannie Murphy. She looks terrified, weak, and like an easy target in the games. I feel really sorry for her.

I listen, out of habit, for the boy's name. I wonder if it'll be someone from school...

The pink lady purses her lips, reaches her hand in the bowl, pulls out a card, and reads it in a squeaky voice.

"Tucker Hampton"

_Natalie Richards- District 7_

The Games have been part of my life ever since I was born. My grandmother, Aimee, was a victor one year, and had my mother with another tribute who, unfortunately didn't make it through.

My mother, Raina, was spared from the games, as was my great-aunt Angela when she was old enough, but I have a feeling this will be my year to be a tribute. Every time that a victor has a child, they always end up reaped sometime. My mother, by some miracle, was spared, but that just gives me that much more of a chance.

I think Grandma Aimee knew that, too, because she has taught me everything she knows about edible plants and archery, the two things that helped her win. I also taught myself how to cut down trees, so most days you can find me in the forest, barefoot, chopping down trees for firewood.

I've never been hungry, what with my grandma's winnings, but I'm not spoiled in the least. My mother made sure of that, making sure I knew how lucky we were.

I don't want to go into the games. I'm happy with my life.

I left to spend possibly my last hours in the woods. I started working, but eventually just ran through the woods, letting my long hair fly out behind me. It's the only place I feel... well... free.

I stayed out there until Grandma Aimee comes and gets me, and tells me to get ready. I run back home, to the house in the forest that Grandma bought after she won. I'm so preoccupied by my thoughts while I brush my hair that I barely notice Grandma Aimee entering my room, holding something green.

I look at it questioningly and she holds up her favorite dress she wore from the victory tour. It's a beautiful green, with quarter sleeves and an embroidered neckline. It comes with matching shoes.

I open my mouth in shock, when she smiles and says, "This is for you. I hope with all my heart you won't get reaped, but I know that if you do, you'll win." Then she sets the dress down and exits.

I slowly put it on, reveling in the smooth silky fabric, so different from my everyday clothes. I'm admiring it in the mirror when Mom comes in and says it's time to go.

I walk to the square with my head held high, ignoring the boy's staring at me. Don't they have other things to do? I mean, HONESTLY! I joined the other 16-year-olds and waited for the reaping.

Our mayor rose with a grim face and repeated the dull history, speaking in a monotone. I spent the entire time tracing circles in the ground with a stick.

Our escort reached into the bowl containing the females. With her long, manicured fingers, she selected a name and read it out loud. I tensed, preparing for the worst. And I got it.

"Natalie Richards."

_Gregory Slade- District 5_

I woke up this morning laughing because I had a really funny dream involving a piece of cheese and an emu... Anyway, I was happy. Until I realized what day it was... REAPING DAY! (dramatic music in background).

It's only my second year being eligible- I'm thirteen- so I'm still freaking out. I mean, I don't want to kill people!

I tiptoe past my dad Cordon, who is asleep and snoring with his mouth wide open. He's a really great dad, but wants more kids. Apparently I'm not enough...

I end up at my school, where I'll go until- well, until I graduate. Then I really want to go to the college in my district, and become a pyrotechnic. Y'know, one of those bigwigs who blows stuff up for a living. I love explosions.

I wandered around the hallways, waiting for the reaping. I don't really have much to worry about- my name's only in four times, but that's less than most of the kids who live here.

I had to go for two tesserae last year, because times were really hard, but then Dad got promoted and I didn't have to this year.

Too soon, I realize the reaping is starting somewhat soon. I wander home, change into my clothes with the least stains, and walk out to the meeting place.

It can barely hold all of our small district, so we are packed tighter than sardines in a can. I can barely breathe. If they're going to sentence random kids to death, they might as well give them space so they don't suffocate before the arena.

I impatiently wait while they draw the District 5 girl's name- someone named Becca Garielde. She looks strong enough... actually, she's really hot, but a few years older than me. Oh, well.

Now for the guys name...

"Don't be me don't be me don't be me don't be me don't be me don't be"

"Gregory Slade"

_Annabelle Kelly- District 4_

No matter what I do, it almost always involves water. It is my life. It's always been there for me- through the death of my mother and father, through moving in with my uncle, and it even helped me meet my boyfriend, Quinn!

Oh, sorry. I'm Annabelle Kelly. Hi.

I woke up screaming from a nightmare I couldn't quite place, and gave up trying to fall asleep after I realized it was reaping day. Fabulous.

I left a note where I knew my uncle could find it, grabbed my swimsuit, and ran to the ocean that's right by our docks and actually has a really convenient entrance area, if you know where to look.

I rushed to put on my swimsuit and gracefully slipped into the water, my long blonde hair splayed out behind me. I impatiently tied it back, laying on my back and losing myself in the cool waves sliding over me. I involuntary smiled, my face transforming from my usual scowl.

I was reveling in the bliss when I heard a splash and the familiar voice of my boyfriend Quinn saying, "There room for two?"

I winced slightly at his sharp voice and heard myself reply, in a high tone that did not match my mood, "Sure, anything. It's great to see you."

He started talking about how nervous he was about the reaping. Like I care- I have nerves of my own to deal with. I zoned him out and speculated about why I was actually dating him. I guess it has something to do with his best friend, Finnick Odair (**I don't care if or if not this matches with his actual** **age. He's 17 now, and won at the age of 16. It doesn't match the book, but I don't care.**). Our moms were great friends, so we were forced to hung out a lot. And then my mom died, and he was all I had. We naturally became friends.

He had another friend- Quinn. I never really knew him that well. We usually hung out separately. That's how life was until last year. Then Finnick got reaped.

My life was over. He was my best friend. What was I going to do? Now I had nobody.

I was at the lake, seriously considering swimming away from all of it, when I heard a voice say, "I know. I feel like that, too. It'd be so much easier."

I whipped around and it was none other than Quinn. For a moment, I wondered if he could read minds, then decided it was probably clear on my face. Or he could already read me like a book. I didn't care.

I needed someone to connect with. I didn't care who. So, I walked straight at him with my arms out and hugged him.

After that, it was natural to hang out together, even after Finnick came home a victor.

We were so inseparable, we both knew we were dating even then.

But now, I wonder why. He's quickly became jealous, not even letting me see Finnick, worrying I'll fall in love with him. As if. We never seem to agree. It just isn't as natural as it was.

The district clock tolling interrupted me from my musing.

Realizing that it was time to get changed, I jumped up and said goodbye to Quinn as I ran home.

I slipped on my dress. We are one of the richer districts, so we traditionally have enough money for nice clothing, but I don't allow my uncle to buy me anything. This dress was a rare exception, after he demanded I have something other than white tee shirts and jeans. (**I'm including the description in the** **next chapter, because I feel like it!**)

I walked slowly down to the square, getting sidetracked every few minutes by a rare flower, or a bug, or anything really. I just made it as the mayor was finishing the boring history lesson.

Our escort slipped her dyed hand into the female bowl, and I pretend to care. Or, at least I pretend until her surprisingly low voice said,

"Annabelle Kelly"

_Thomas Lieu- District 12_

Not fitting in is no strange concept for me. Being the only Chinese person in District 12 got me used to that.

I'm Thomas Lieu. I live by myself, in a house I bought with money I earned from running errands. I survive by hunting and tesserae. My family is scattered. I am alone.

I went to school, until I was expelled for "picking fights." I didn't pick fights. It was self-defense.

I woke up, and decided to go hunting this morning. I have nothing else to do, besides worry, since it's reaping day. No use running errands today.

I grab my bow and arrows, put on my sneakers, and run to the woods. I climb up the tree, and leap over using an ancient technique that enables me to leap long distances. I do a lot of self-taught kung-fu. It protects me, helps me live.

I jump down from the tree and prepare to find a spot to hunt.

After a while, I find my friend Akira waiting for me. She is smiling, and holding a bow. She's my only friend. She understands me completely.

Before long, we have a few rabbits and a squirrel. Good enough for today.

We say our good-byes, and I run home to get ready. I slide on a white tee shirt, a black vest, and jeans. My beat-up boots, that I've had for years. It doesn't really matter what I end up looking like.

I walk to the reaping, keeping an eye out for ambushes. That sounds paranoid, but I've honestly been ambushed. I'd rather be paranoid than be dead any day.

As soon as I got to the district square, I heard a scuffle and a crash and the seat next to me was suddenly empty. I have a reputation as a good fighter. It's just kung-fu, really.

Our mayor stands up, and she begins to tell the history of Panem. Again. I stare at a beetle crawling in he dirt, and wonder if he's as bored as I am.

Oh, wait! They're calling out the girl's name!

It's Bea Ivory. I remember her from school. It's a pity she has to go, she was nice enough. At least it's not Akira.

Now the boy's name. I wonder who is being sentenced to death this year.

"Thomas Lieu"

_Melissa Smudger- District 11_

I woke up to Pepper, my cat, scratching at my bed, demanding to be picked up. I found her abandoned in a bin when I was 5. Now, 7 years later, he's a full-grown kitty. I still love him.

I'm Melissa Smudger, but if I like you you can call me Mel. I think I like you. So, I can tell you a secret- I'm planning to volunteer. I haven't told anyone else, not even Ana, my best friend. I want to see life outside the districts.

I know my dad and brother will be mad and very sad. It's not really fair to take anyone else from them, after the fire 2, almost 3 years ago. The fire that burnt our house down. The fire that my mother passed away in, trying to rescue me when I was trapped in a room. I made it out. She didn't. That was the most terrifying moment of my life.

No matter what, I still need to go. I feel trapped inside the district, like I don't belong.

I bent down and picked up Pepper, listening to his purring as I hugged and petted him.

Together, we walked to the kitchen and I grabbed a banana for me and a bit of dried chicken for Pepper. In a district that's as poor as 11, that's an extremely indulgent breakfast. Oh, well. It's reaping day, and after I leave there will be more food for my father and older brother, who's 15. So I'm sure they can spare a little extra.

I wander outside, and end up taking a nap. It is so warm outside, and the ground felt uncharacteristically soft.

I wake up after a few hours, and head back inside. It is a bit of a shock to suddenly be in the dark, but once my eyes adjust, I'm in for a much bigger surprise.

My brother's wearing a nice shirt! With a collar! And nice pants!

When I open my mouth to tell him that, he scowls and says, "Don't. Say. A. Word. Dad made me."

I grin in understanding, still trying to match the image with my brother, who usually wears ratty tee shirts and grimy jeans.

Eventually, I wander to my room, and put on my only nice outfit, a sundress with a white top, green skirt and little daisies around the hemline. It's a little short, but it still fits.

I even tie a blue bow around Pepper. Or try to. He seems to think it's some kind of cat toy.

I quickly walked to the reaping square, determined to get a good spot to watch. Of course I'm nervous, but walking slow won't change that.

I hear the soft crunching of leaves behind me, and know my family's following me. But I'm really not in the mood to talk.

Somehow I end up near the front, and I watch the mayor lethargically rise to his feet and tell, in a low, plodding voice, the history of the districts. I spend the entire time imagining the capitol.

I almost miss the drawing of the girl's name- someone named Wanda. I've never seen her before. She looks about 14.

I grit my teeth. Now's the time.

"I volunteer as tribute!"


	2. Reactions and Goodbyes

**A/N- Here's a poem I wrote for this chapter:**

**Roses are Red,**

**They're in the Hunger Games,**

**Poetry is hard,**

**Refrigerator.**

**Disclaimer- I'm getting really tired of writing this. It is kind of obvious that I am not Suzanne Collins. For one thing, I'm not actually famous.**

Not This Time- Chapter 2- Reactions and Goodbyes

_Tucker Hampton- District 9_

Okay. This is not happening. This is NOT HAPPENING. It can't happen! Who will provide for my sisters? I can't leave them alone with Donothan!

I can't let them see me freak out. But I apparently have nothing to worry about, because I can't move. I'm paralyzed with freakingoutness. (**That is so a word. Or it should be.**)

I gradually feel hands behind me, pushing me towards the stage. This is so embarrassing. I'm being treated like a rag doll in front of Panem. How's that for a debut?

I'm shoved on the stage, where I stand awkwardly with sweaty palms. I can't speak, think, or anything. Then suddenly I realize what this all means. I've been reaped. I'm going to die. There's nothing I can do about it. And there will be nobody left for my sisters.

As soon as I realize this, a lone tear trickles down my face. I look down so I don't embarrass myself more. A rag doll, then a crybaby. Great.

I am slowly led to a small room, where I am to say good-bye to my family.

I don't have to wait for long, because as soon as I'm sitting down, my sisters come hurtling in my room.

Mondell is holding something in her hand. A closer look reveals that it's the only real piece of jewelry she owns, a small black rubber wristband. It's her most prized possession.

Someone, I assume Angel, has written in a shaky hand "Dstrkt Nyn".

Mondell presents it to me, saying it can be my district token.

Rosette quickly starts talking, encouraging me, telling me to come home and that she knew I could. She was doing her best to be supportive, but I can see cracks in her confident manner. She's worried.

Mondell just walks up to me and sits on my lap, hugging me like it's the last time she'll ever see me. It very well might be. That's the most cruel part of the Games- tearing families apart.

Angel just sat nest to me, talking about how much fun we had in the past few years. She's trying to distract everyone in the room from the tragedy.

When I ask where Donothan, Rosette looks down and says he was recovering from a painful hangover but sends his best wishes. Sure.

The Peacekeepers come all too soon, telling everyone to come out.

Rosette hugged me tightly, said she'll watch me when I got home, and walked out before anyone could see the tears that I knew were in her eyes. Mondell hugged me again, whispered "Good Luck" in my ear, and stood up to wait for Angel. Meanwhile, Angel was crying on my shoulder, saying good-bye, and that she'll miss me.

They are eventually kicked out, and I close my eyes, slip the wristband on, and close my eyes, preparing myself for my death.

_Natalie Richards- District 7_

I'd absolutely love to say that I bravely stepped to the stage with my held high. So that's exactly what I did, because that's how I want to be portrayed in the games. As a fighter.

I purposely stop myself from worrying, because my face is an open book. I need to be able to seem like someone to sponsor, because that may be the only thing to keep me alive. See, I'm already thinking ahead. I want to come home so badly.

The mayor calls the boy, Travis Cole, and I give him a sympathetic glance. He looks about 14, and absolutely terrified.

We are herded to a small room, decorated all in blue. I suppose it's supposed to be calming. It doesn't work.

My mom flew through the door, grabbed me in her arms, and started sobbing uncontrollably. I looked to my great-aunt for support, but I could see she was barely holding back tears. Still, she tried to reassure me.

My grandma came in last of all, and as far as I could tell, she didn't look like she was about to break down crying.

She looked at me with eyes that said that she was sad, but not surprised.

She pressed something cold and hard into my hands. I unclenched them and saw a small golden heart-shaped locket. I looked up at her with a questioning look on my face, and she popped it open.

On one side, I saw a picture of my whole family, and on the other was a picture of our tranquil home. I would miss it so much.

She spoke urgently, saying "I believe in you. I've taught you everything you need to know. I won the Games with this knowledge, and so will you. The one more thing I have to say to you is to know who to trust. In the arena, that can be the most important thing of all. And never give up."

I stop trying to stay strong and let the tears course down my face. I have no idea how I'm going to make it through this. But I trust my grandma, and she trusts me. So I have to do this, and do it well.

I'm ready.

_Gregory Slade- District 5_

WHAT? NO FREAKING WAY! THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING TO ME!

Okay, Gregory. Take a deep breath. In, out. In, out. Okay, why am I talking to myself, anyway?

I walk up to the stage, stiff as a board, and trip on the step.

I chant to myself, just keep walking, just keep walking, just keep walking.

I somehow get on stage, and stand there, I assume, looking panicky. At least, that's how I feel.

I had just almost gotten used to the stage lights blaring at me, and then they rushed me into a small dark room that looked more like a closet than a place for future tributes to see their parents for the possible last time.

By the time my eyes adjust, my dad wanders in. I can see enough to notice that his eyes are absolutely blank. No emotion.

He turns to talk to what he thinks is me, but is actually the wall. Umm, what's going on?

Well, the conversation seems to be going well, so I'd assume the answer is either that his eyes are having serious issues adjusting, or my reaping has mentally unhinged him. I'm guessing it's the second one, because he doesn't even end the conversation when he stumbles out of the room. I hope he'll be okay.

The next person to come in is my best and only friend, Stock Barrel. I expected to have a conversation, and joke around, but he pressed a strip of cloth neatly labeled with the words "District 5" in my hand.

Trying to lighten the mood, I pretend it's a loincloth and strut across the room using my best model walk and pout my lips.

That didn't help. Now he's just rolling my eyes.

I suppose it was nice of him to give me a district token, but if he's just going to be quiet, he might have stayed home.

We sit in awkward silence until the big burly Peacekeeper dude shoves him out the door and me through the door on a train. Well, okay.

I'm going to the Capitol.

_Annabelle Kelly- District 4_

I stand there, feeling like someone's poked me with a nail- shocked, and can't breathe. About to die, but this sure won't be from tetanus.

I can imagine the reaction of my uncle, Finnick, Quinn, everyone.

I decide to put on a brave face for the Capitol, and show them I'm not going down without a fight.

I barely notice the guy being called, I'm too busy stressing out.

They quickly usher me into a room painted all in blues and greens, symbolizing the ocean. Whatever.

I sure stand out, in my red spaghetti-strap tank top, dark navy skinny jeans, red and black sparkled belt, gold purse and necklace, black high-heeled ankle boots, and Quinn's leather jacket. Sure, it's not stylish, but it matches my outfit. And still smells like his cologne.

Finnick is the first in the room, closely followed by Quinn, who is followed by my uncle.

My uncle says, "I'm going to make this quick. I love you, wish you luck, and can't wait to see you when you get home." We've never really been that close, but seriously? I was about to die here! Then he just goes and leaves.

Quinn wastes no time in slipping next to me and grabbing my hand. I wince slightly as his sweaty hand closes over mine, but I have no time to focus on that.

Finnick starts talking nonstop, trying to tell me everything he knows about the Games. I wonder how this must feel for him, being in the Games then losing his friend to them. I feel awful for him.

He quickly hands me a little pin shaped like a trident. My district token, and Finnick's, last year. Maybe it'll bring me luck.

All too soon, the guards come in and poke their guns in my friend's back's forcing them to walk away. And they're called Peacekeepers. How ironic.

I am slowly prodded to board the train, so we can start heading to the Capitol, where I shall be prepared for slaughter.

But I won't quit. I have too much to live for to just give up.

_Thomas Lieu- District 12_

Okay, honestly, I'm not that nervous for the Hunger Games. I know kung-fu, and it's not like I have much to live for back home. In the Capitol, I get enough food, nobody shuns me, and I might make new friends.

The only downside is that I'll miss Akira like crazy. We've been together since we were infants. It'll be weird to be apart.

I notice I'm visibly shaking, and make an attempt to stop. I realize that despite me acting tough, I'm really nervous. I'm being locked in a huge arena and forced to murder people. Fun. (note the sarcasm)

I walk quickly up to the stage, staying quiet during the anthem and until I'm shoved in a small room decorated all in velvet. Why, I have no idea.

They had just opened the door when Akira leaped through and ran right up to me. She quickly started talking about everything from my house to my errand job to the food in the Capitol, and the nutritional value of it. She picks the weirdest moments to be all chatty.

I had just thought that when she took a small sharpie out of her bag. When I looked at her questioningly, she took off the lid to show the red tip. She explained how it wouldn't come off unless you apply some fancy solution to it, and maybe it'll count for my token.

She presses the tip to my arm and writes 12 in large, blocky letters. Like, a robot.

She quickly leaves, before the Peacekeepers bother her, but not before saying good-bye and wishing me luck.

I'll need it.

_Melissa Smudger- District 11_

I know I surprised my family, along with the rest of the crowd. I mean, how often do 12-year-old girls volunteer to go in an arena with murderers?

Never.

But I know it's what I have to do. I can't stay here here for the rest of my life. I'll go mad. I have to get out.

The male tribute is announced, some 15 year old named Eddie Fields. I've seen him around once or twice, but never talked to him.

I quickly walk to the reception room, painted in gold and lavishly decorated in maple wood. The furniture in here could feed a family of 5 for a year. What a waste.

My brother walks in, and immediately starts yelling at me.

"Melissa Smudger! Why in the world would you volunteer? You don't know what you're doing! You're just a little girl!"

I have a very mild temper, but that just set me off. "I volunteered because I wanted out! I'm so sick of life in the districts! It's always the same, typical day! I do know what I'm doing, and I've planned to do it for years! And I'm not just a little girl. I'm old enough to make my own decisions!"

He just scowled and stormed out.

My dad wandered in, looking sheepish. "I heard all of that. I'm sorry, he is just so upset."

"It's fine, I guess. I just feel bad for upsetting everyone." I replied. "Can you tell him that I'm sorry? And that I love him."

"I can do that. I'm going to miss you so much while you're away. I love you. Please come home, I don't know what to do with half of my family gone."

"I promise. I will come home. I love you, too." I said softly.

With that, he handed me a small golden locket and walked out of the room.

I gently fingered it. It was a small locket, shaped like a rose. I opened it and smelled dry rose petals. This was my mom's. I remember her wearing it. And now it's mine.

As soon as I put it on, my best friend Ana bounced in.

I braced myself for a lot of yelling, but she just hugged me and I knew that she understood my decision. I'd really miss her.

She quickly ran out before the guards came back, leaving me alone to wonder what would happen.

**A/N- Sooo? How was it? Next up is the train rides, where they meet their mentors, their guides and each other!**


	3. Train Rides

**A/N- Hey guys! Yet another chapter! I have a poll up on my profile page, it's about who you want to win! The poll won't completely make the decision, but it will definitely be a large part of it. So vote! Pretty please? Also, what are some good smells (perfumes, shampoos, etc.)? For a later chapter...**

**Disclaimer- I own nothing.**

Not This Time- Chapter 3- Train Rides

_Tucker Hampton- District 9_

After everyone leaves, the guards usher me through the large iron doors in the back of the room. I stumble as I step off the soft, carpeted footing and immediately shiver as the cool night air touches my skin.

I slowly start to look around, and see a bronze train gleaming in the light of the moon. The exhaust fumes pouring from the back create the illusion of fog, making the train seem mysterious and exciting.

However, I'm not excited. To me, it looks like a death contraption on wheels trying to take me away from everything I've ever known. Because it is.

After staring at it for a few minutes, the bigger guard poked me with a gun, shoved me up a ramp and to the door, then walked away to their cabin.

I nervously peered through the door. Seeing that the cabin was empty, I tentatively stepped inside and was immediately assaulted by what looked like a pink blob with a zillion tattoos.

"Tucker!" she squealed. "I'm Mallorie, and I'm your guide! Why don't you come in and meet Jeannie! You know, Jeannie Murphy? Girl tribute? Anyway, I'm sure you'll get along really well. Come on, then! It's time for dinnner!"

After that extremely long monologue, I was ushered into a large room containing nothing but a shocked looking girl, a grumpy forty-something man, and an ENORMOUS table of steaming food.

I barely looked at the people as they introduced them as Jeannie, the tribute, and Jacob, our guide. I was too busy staring at the food. It looked amazing- the kind of thing that I've dreamed of but never eaten.

"So, what are we waiting for? Let's eat!"

_Natalie Richards- District 7_

Worst. Day. Ever.

Not only was I brutally torn away from my family, but I have to sit through a dinner with Veronika, my extremely social and chatty guide, Sammi, my standoffish mentor, and Travis, the male tribute who has the table manners of a pig. I'm not a snob or anything, it's just gross.

The meal hadn't even been served, and the room had already sank into an awkward silence, punctuated only by the overly friendly attempts at conversation by Veronika.

"So, Natalie, is it? Like OMG, I'm sooooo excited to be your mentor! We can, like, give each other makeovers and stuff, you know?" she shrieked, ignoring the disgusted looks on the faces of both Sammi and I.

As far as I can see, Sammi seems pretty cool. She won the Games, but she isn't stuck-up or anything like that. She appears logical and strong-willed, and also quiet.

She reminds me of my Grandma, which I guess is reminds me of why I need to win. This whole dinner thing is just a minor setback. I'll get through it.

_Gregory Slade- District 5_

This dinner is epic! It's, like, this pig thing. Pork, right? I've never had anything but gross... um... mystery meat.

The only bad thing is it's a whole pig, not just parts, so the head is still attached.

No matter how much I try to distract myself, I can't stop looking at the face.

The eyes are FOLLOWING ME! It's like an ugly Mona Lisa!

I might be a vegetarian... oh wait. That means no meat. Never mind...

I was so engrossed in my meal I barely noticed my mentor, guide, and Becca (my district partner) staring at me. I eventually felt their eyes on me, and when I saw them all staring at me I was so freaked out I fell out of my seat.

They cracked up and started giving each other high fives. Becca, a tall brunette with a wide smile, fist-bumped a lanky twenty-something guy with a navy blue Mohawk, who was grinning at a girl with almost identical features but waist length, curly hair.

Becca grinned at me and gestured at the guy, saying " This is Josh, your guide. The girl is Jenni, your mentor. Sorry about that, I got on the train early while they were planning this."

I grudgingly smiled, the whole pig forgotten. This could be fun.

_Annabelle Kelly- District 4_

I slowly spooned up the last few bites of fish stew (they barely made it edible, there's only so much you can do with fish) and sat still, dreading the televised reaping.

Right now, my worst fear is not making it home. I guess that's everyone's worst fear right now. I'm terrified that I appeared weak. The others might pick me as an easy target. My only comfort right now is knowing that if they judge me as weak, they'll be underestimating me. Hopefully.

I wish I was at home right now, watching this with my family. Not needing to worry about which of the tributes are planning to kill me, how I'm going to kill them.

I thought it was stressful for me to watch Finnick compete and get reaped. That doesn't even come close to comparing the raw terror I'm feeling at the prospect of appearing on television, my feelings and emotions displayed in front of all of Panem.

Which, in turn, also makes me nervous. If I can't take watching my name get drawn out of a bowl, how will I face the Games? Being forced to kill and fight to survive? Seeing my allies die in front of me?

Eventually, my guide, Shea, a short woman with dyed skin, plain clothes, and a very low voice, got tired of watching me push invisible soup around my plate and told me to go to the sitting room.

I slowly walked across the train, dragging my feet. I pushed open the door and sat down next to Aria, my mentor, a short woman with matching blonde hair and a fearless personality.

Drake, the other tribute, sat across from me. He had shaggy black hair and only looked about 12, and petrified. Poor guy.

Shea shuffled into the room, grabbed the remote, and flicked on the television. The ominous sound of the Capitol anthem filled the room as I took a deep breath and prepared myself to watch.

_Thomas Lieu- District 12_

I stifled a snort of disgust as Raymond, my guide, sat down next to me on the sofa. He was plump, short, and balding, with a kind face and a grandfatherly smile. That was nice, since I've never had any family. But I can't let that distract me.

I watch the tributes from District 1 come parading across the stage, looking as ditzy and superficial as ever. Their names are ridiculous- Chartreuse and Silver. I have no idea how their district always wins.

District 2 isn't as notable- they look strong, but I know I could best them in a fight.

The third district is full of nervous- looking kids, neither of them over 5 feet tall. They couldn't be older than 13. I hope they don't die immediately, but if I need to I'll do what it takes to win. I'm not heartless, just determined.

While watching District 4, the blonde girl is visibly nervous, but holds herself with the confidence of a fighter. She might be one to watch out for.

District 5 manages to catch my attention for longer than the other districts. The tributes are a tall brunette girl who looks awfully sneaky and a guy who looks like he's about to blow something up. Not good.

I stare down at the pad of paper in my left hand where I've been trying to take notes on the tributes, hoping for possible weaknesses or strengths. The blank paper stares back at me, forcefully reminding me that it's not as easy to play in the games as it seems. No matter how hard I try to treat the humans like nothing but prey, my soft side overcomes my hunter's instincts. How are people expected to kill others with family and friends waiting for that? Where's the compassion?

And this is coming from the hunter/martial artist!

_Melissa Smudger- District 11_

I eagerly lean forward on the sofa as I watch my competition. I'm exhilarated- anticipation and fear all rolled into one.

I mean, sure it's scary to see the faces of the people who are going to try and kill me. I'd have to be crazy not to be terrified.

But the other half of me is super excited. I'm out of District 11! I'm going to see the Capitol! Everyone will know me, Mel Smudger!

I blink twice as I see the District 7 tributes called on the stage. My attention is immediately drawn to the girl, I think her name is Natalie. She looks strong and confident, like she somehow knew she would be called. I wish I had her self-assurance.

District 8 barely holds my attention- they look like they are scared out of their wits, but trying to be strong. Pretty much like every other tribute.

As the male tribute for District 9 was called up, my eyes were drawn to him immediately. He looked capable of competing, but he obviously wanted to stay home. He practically had to pry off three little girls clinging to him, and he looked ready to cry. I feel awful for him- it must be terrible to be reaped, and forced to leave behind everything you love.

District 10 was a couple of teenagers trying to look fierce and failing. Nothing worth noticing

Next district was... me. I looked at the screen, watching Eddie get called (he was in his room, sulking) and me calling out to volunteer.

I was hoping I'd look brave, smart, and daring. Instead I looked like a little kid, wanting to play a game. This is awful.

"That's you," remarked Ingrid. She was our guide, a tall, thin, elderly woman who was dressed in a navy pantsuit. Kira, the mentor, looked like a supermodel. I remember that when she won the games, she won because the sponsors absolutely loved her.

I pretended not to hear the obvious remark, and was about to turn around and join Eddie in sulking when the District 12 tributes caught my eye. A tough looking Chinese boy, apparently named Thomas, was called onstage. Along with him was a girl about my age- Bea. She was slim and tall with long black hair.

I rolled my eyes at my interest in the people who were trying to kill me and pushed open the door, heading to my room.

I wandered through a long white hallway. Eventually, I saw a small sign reading "Melissa". Assuming it was my room, I walked in and shrieked.


	4. Stylists and Chariots

**A/N- I was just staring at my closet looking for SOMETHING to wear tomorrow when I was like OMG FANFICTION UPDATE NINJA! And then I updated. **

**See that? I'm trying to start a 'thing'- someone PM's you FANFICTION UPDATE NINJA and then... you update? So what do you think? Could it catch on?**

**Disclaimer- I don't own anything but FFiction Update Ninja.**

This Time- Chapter 4- Chariot Rides

_Tucker Hampton- 9_

I stood stiffly as my stylist, Harry, circled around me, slowly evaluating me. He was trying to prepare me for the chariot rides, which would be taking place in a few hours. Frankly, I was terrified. Everyone was going to be judging me, my strength, my appearance, deciding if it was worth dipping into their funds to save my life. Not a very pleasant situation to be in.

Harry had apparently seen enough, so he motioned to a nearby couch and we sat down. He cleared his throat and swept his jet-black hair out of his eyes, grinning as he did so.

I sat silently until he said, "How do you feel about matching outfits?" My eyebrows rose and he said, "You know, with Jeannie. I was thinking something not too feminine or masculine, so everything's coordinated."

I laughed and said, "Harry, I honestly couldn't care less what Jeannie is wearing, or what I'm wearing, for that matter. Just use your best style sense."

I suppose that was the wrong thing to say, because he got this crazy look on his face and said, "I hoped you'd say that. I have something made for you already. Put your original outfit back on and let's go."

He led me out of the studio into a storage closet. I pushed open the door and saw two intricate gray jumpsuits stitched with factory designs partially obscured by a cloud of smoke. I immediately started coughing, the smoke irritating my throat, and he rushed to shut the door.

He clarified, "Of course, the smoke machines need some adjusting. That could be a problem…"

_Natalie Richards- 7_

My eyebrows flew upwards as I saw what my crazy stylist, Maggie, intended to put me in. The outfit itself was nice enough; a pale brown dress with dark green embroidery, but the shoes were another matter entirely.

She had her heart set on an insane pair of lime green stilettos, which were at least six inches tall, with a fake pinecone glued to the tops. Her idea was to "make me supermodel-tall to match my supermodel looks"- her words, not mine. Apparently, that meant me twisting my ankles and my feet bleeding.

I argued, "How am I supposed to stand up in those? I'll trip all over myself! And what's with the pinecone, anyway?"

"I'm TRYING to get you sponsors, here! They like the tributes who look powerful, and height can make a girl look intimidating to the competitors. That will portray you as a threat. I don't see why you don't like the pinecone either, it's meant to symbolize a connection with nature. That's important, since the Games are always outside," she countered.

I rolled my eyes at her apparent insanity and resigned myself to my fate. There would be bigger battles to fight later, and heels certainly wouldn't kill me.

_Gregory Slade- 5_

I stared incredulously at my reflection in the mirror. I looked SEXY as a claymore! Sure, the costume was made of polyester and metal which wasn't the most comfortable, and I had to stand with my feet apart so I didn't start rolling around like a bowling ball, and it was the ugliest shade of gray my stylist, Tammy , could think of, but I looked hot!

I grinned and struck a model pose, pouting my lips and strutting around the room. I barely noticed Becca come in until I heart muffled snorts of laughter and spun around. She was bent in half, in tears laughing so hard.

She said, "C'mon, fashion star, it's my mirror time."

"You're just jealous because I look better in a claymore than you do," I retorted.

"Yes. I'm jealous of you because while I'm in an adorable gray dress you're dressed like a CLAYMORE."

That didn't even deserve a response. I plugged my ears, stuck out my tongue, and started humming the Capitol anthem as loudly and obnoxiously as possible. Becca rolled her eyes and walked away, muttering about 'idiot tributes'. I assume she meant those snotty careers- I was perfectly adorable! She can't help but love me; it's just a matter of time.

_Annabelle Kelly- 4_

I fidgeted uncomfortably as I stumbled into the chariot, barely managing to stay upright in my strappy sandals. My silk blue prom dress rippled around my feet, making me stumble. When I managed to end up in the chariot, my immaculately styled blonde hair was in disarray around my face and my cheeks were flushed with embarrassment.

Drake snickered, instantly withering when I shot him one of my famous death glares. I ignored him and evaluated the other tributes. District 1 looked shiny as usual, the very picture of excess. Their horses even had paper horns taped on their heads so they looked like unicorns. What airheads.

The costumes got progressively worse as the tributes from the poorer districts arrived. The costumes were getting from bad to awful.

This part of the Games was the worst- we had to smile and pretend we're happy to please the people who can buy our survival with the press of a button. The fact that they usually don't alone should have put an end to this idiocy, but no. The tradition's still going strong.

Drake stiffened next to me as the horses started moving. I found myself thinking of Quinn as the first districts were pulled into the ring. Was he thinking of me right now?

_Thomas Lieu- 12_

I grimaced as the Careers glided into the ring, their dresses flowing gracefully, their over-styled hair enhanced to give the appearance of flowing in the nonexistent wind. Meanwhile, both I and Bea, my district partner, are wearing hideously baggy coal-mining outfits.

It would have been bad enough if they looked realistic, but no. They had to be real. They were scratchy, covered in coal dust and five sizes too big. At least I had it better than Bea- hers looked like it had belonged to an overweight man and was big enough she could fit three people in it.

As I stared in pity, she caught my eye and smirked. She nudged me with her elbow and said, "You know, we would make a pretty good team. You've got strength- I can tell- and I've got the brain power. If we team up, we have a pretty good chance of winning. So what do you say?"

I stared at her in shock, slowly digesting what she said. Did she seriously want to team up with me, Thomas Lieu, the loner?

She cleared her throat and said, "Well? What do you say?"

At a loss for words, I nodded yes as our horses pulled into the ring and the flashing of the cameras blinded me. I plastered a grin on my face and prepared myself for the worst.

_Melissa Smudger- 11_

I doubled over laughing as Gregory Slade finished his joke about the mailman in the bar. After I was taken around the ring in an annoyingly realistic harvest outfit, I bumped into Gregory in the elevator. I complimented him on his costume and he pretended to eat the fruit hanging on my hat. After that, it was pure friendship.

I was still in shock about being here- since when did twelve-almost-thirteen girls from nowhere get to be on TV in the Capitol? Never! I'll admit it- I'm pretty star-struck right now. All of these famous stylists, athletes, television hosts, all dedicated to serving me! Of course, there is that whole unfortunate fight-to-the-death thing going on, but that's not until later. I'm going to enjoy myself while I can.

I guess I had spaced out for a while, because Gregory had started poking me and yelling, "YO MELLIE!" in my ear. I jolted back to reality and grinned sheepishly. He was cute when he was annoyed.


End file.
